


Wilting

by Coileddragon



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst, Beating, Crying, Depression, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Minific, Post-Canon, Sibling Love, Whump, but Piers is still Gym Leader for now, can be kbnz if you want but not intended, physical assault, protective older brother, sexual comments at a minor, suicidal ideations, whats this? the rare Gen fic? from ME???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coileddragon/pseuds/Coileddragon
Summary: Piers has never been one for picking fights, but when men start making inappropriate comments about his sister, he gets a lot more than he expected.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 152
Collections: Whump and Hurt/Comfort recs





	1. Instigation

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW I almost never do Gen Fic but I may do more with Pokemon SwSh... Mostly I just wanted to write Piers getting beat up and then a friend poked the idea of him getting taken care of after and I realized 'hey I haven't written any hurt/comfort either lets go'.
> 
> As always big shout-out to my beta reader, Levi, who saves me from sounding way less cool than I think I sound.

Piers sighed as he walked down the rather unkempt streets of Spikemuth. Ahead of him, Marnie was toting two full-to-the-brim bags of groceries, Morpeko running on all fours to keep up with her. He liked to take his time when they went out for necessities, evaluate his town and make mental notes of what most needed attention. Lately it felt like that was just everything.

He knew his hometown was treated unfairly next to all the other cities of Galar. There was no power spot, so there was no point to it. That was how the Chairman saw it when he ruled. The gym stadium was hardly more than a wide enough back alley for Pokemon to scrap in, and the continuing degradation of the city meant that less and less people wanted to come in at all. 

Spikemuth didn’t have fancy boutiques or salons or comfortable spacious houses. It had narrow streets, Trubbish that rifled through the empty boxes and trash on the side of the road, compact apartment buildings, and an exhausted leader that was eager to give it all away. 

Few people who took on the gym challenge made it this far anyway. It had to seem so horrible to have to stop here in between Circhester in its snow covered glory and Hammerlocke with its history and pristine castle. 

Piers closed his eyes, shuffling forward down the familiar route without even needing his eyes to guide him. Maybe with the Chairman sacked, he could get more help. Maybe whoever else would take up residency as the governing force in Galar would care enough to hear him out…

“She’s got a bloody fine ass, she does.”

“A little young, don’tcha think?”

“Nah nah, they’re tighter that way, much more enjoyable.”

Piers stopped dead in his tracks at the chatter that was happening in one of the dank alleyways of Spikemuth, the pair of men illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarettes clamped between their teeth. They hadn’t cared to notice Piers’ following their gaze, settling on Marnie who was too far ahead to notice her brother stop or hear the depraved compliments.

Anger flared at the realization that they were talking about his sister like that, so casually. Did they not even realize Piers was right here? 

“Oi. Shut the fuck up, you lot!” Piers barked, rage guiding his heavy steps towards them.

The pair looked at him with lack of interest, not at all with the fear of being caught that Piers was hoping for. Their eyes were glazed with anger, brows knitting together and giving a dismissive grunt before looking back at Marnie’s retreating form.

Piers put himself in between them and her, anger boiling to the surface as his pale cheeks flushed red.

“Don’t you look at my sister like that.”

“What? You think you kin stop us?” one of them asked, smiling and exposing crooked and yellowing teeth that chewed into his cigarette. “I bet she ‘as a nice pair a tits on ‘er. Pussy pink as a Jigglypuff.”

Piers hooked the man in the jaw, his cigarette flying from his lips and sputtering in the gutter as he staggered back. The other man was laughing, catching his own smoke as it fell.

“‘E got you good, mate.”

“Nah, nah,” the other man replied, waving at his friend and straightening up. Piers glared, ready to throw another punch if he said anything else, but before he could react, he was grabbed by the coat collar and spun, shoved roughly into the wall. “Good thing they don’t pick gym leaders on ‘ow well they throw a punch.”

He reeled a fist back and slammed it into Piers face, pain blossoming on impact as stars shot behind his eyelids.  “Maybe they should. We might get someone who can actually clean up this shite town.”

Another blow and his collar was released, Piers staggering onto all fours. His eye was swelling, cheek sore and a purple bruise already forming. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, saliva and blood leaving a red streak as he stood again.

“Say what you want about me…. But you don’t say that  _ shit  _ about Marnie…” Piers spat, throwing himself at the man and punching him again.

He was grabbed again and the man reeled back and crashed his skull into Piers’. The dizzying wave of pain, nausea, and stars stuck harder this time, staggering and only keeping upright from the other man holding him.

“I think I’ll say what I want,” a knee was shoved up into Piers gut and he doubled over. “Thinkin’ your hot shit ‘cause you’re the gym leader? Bet your living pretty nice up there, huh? Rest of us in the slums, but you can’t be bothered? Jus’ fuckin’ around with singin’ and shite.”

Piers wheezed, trying to gain back his breath and shaking his head. Was that what he thought? Did others think that? Didn’t they know he was trying his best? 

He tried to right himself, met by a right hook in the mouth that sent him sprawling on his back. He groaned, the world spinning much more violently when he was on his back. Instinctively he rolled on his side, his head and gut aching. He could taste blood more strongly now, his lip split down the middle and swelling.

“It’s… not like that…” Piers groaned, shaking his head. He reached for the single pokeball clipped to his belt, crying out as his fingers were met with a boot. The pokeball was yanked off his belt and rolled down the alley well out of his reach. He only brought Obstagoon- he never needed anyone outside of battle…

Slowly and painfully, he pushed himself to his knees, then to his feet, holding up shaking hands. How many people in Spikemuth were like this man? Angry? Hurt? He was used to those who were on his side, who knew he was trying for them, that he’d only stayed gym leader all these years to appeal for their case. If Spikemuth lost it’s gym, it’d be sealed off from Galar in no time.

“I-”

“We don’t wan’ your excuses,” the attacker hissed. His friend was still watching, face split in a manic grin while tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. 

He slugged Piers in the stomach again and this time Piers retched as he doubled over, dropping to his knees and hunching over. He could feel the tears running, but he clenched his teeth to keep the whimper in. As he sat up slightly, a steel-toed kick to the face with the sickening crack of bone sent him on his back again. 

The pain was too much to voice, blood gushing down his nostrils and the back of his throat. He curled in on himself as the heel of a boot shoved into his ribs. The other man joined this time, the two kicking whatever soft part of Piers they could reach. He hoped someone would look into the alley and see, just walk by and see him and help him- but what would they do if they saw him like this? Pathetic and helpless, in the muck of the street… What if they were as mad as these two?

He could only keep his face and chest covered the best he could as the wailed on him, bruises decorating his pale skin beneath his clothing. When they stopped, both of them spat on him.

“You’re shit, Piers. An’ as long as you’re leader here, so is Spikemuth.” Part of him knew they were right, their anger so visceral it had to be true. 

They left, Piers still in a tight ball, taking shaky, agonizing breaths with each inhale. The sky had darkened and fat drops of rain were falling, as if the world needed to spit on him too. He let out a pained sob, tears and blood mixing in the mud. 

Maybe everything he had tried to do was a waste of time. Maybe Spikemuth was worse off with him. Maybe he should just lay in the muck until he became a part of it… 


	2. Degredation

“-iers?...” 

The voice was distant, fuzzy. His ear was clogged with rainwater. How long had he been laying in the mud? The pain had ebbed to a dull throb, the cool mud easing the swelling of his face.

“PIERS!”

Footsteps sloshed through the wet street as they ran towards him. He flinched when they got close, bracing for impact. It never came. Instead, a small hand touched his shoulder, tugging him.

“Piers, bro, what happened?!” It was Marnie, her voice more clear as she leaned over him. 

Piers tried to open his eyes but everything was blurry. One eye was too swollen and caked in mud to even try. He blinked a couple of times, sluggishly turning his head up to Marnie. Her eyes were watering, brows knit together in worry as she held an umbrella over them both.

“Ma’nie…” he slurred. “You ‘kay?”

She made a sound of disbelief, a pained smile stretching on her face.

“You’re covered in blood and beat to shite… ‘n you’re asking  _ me  _ if  _ I’m _ … okay?”

Piers swallowed, blood going down and leaving his mouth dry. He took a shuddering breath before trying to speak.

“There were… two men… sssayin’ awful shite ‘bout you…”

Marnie’s shoulders slumped and a splash of rain ran down the umbrella at the motion.

“Is that how this happened?” Her voice was small. Hurt. She was blaming herself.

“‘Snot… ‘snot your fault. ‘M stupid.”

“You bloody hell are.” He could hear the tears in her voice, her anger at him displaced her sadness. “C-can you get up?”

Piers grunted, letting his head slump down in the mud again and heaving a sigh.

“Dunno…”

“Fuck,” she hissed, standing up and looking around.

“‘Goon… ‘e’s…” Piers tried to point to the discarded pokeball that was laying face down in the muck. From here he couldn’t make out the way it was trembling, too stuck to open on it’s own.

Marnie stuck the umbrella in the mud, covering his face from the rain. He wanted to tell her not to bother, but it took too much energy to keep trying to form sentences. As she plucked the ball from the grime, it snapped open with a burst of light. Obstagoon burst out in a flurry, arms out and eyes wild as its tongue lolled. Once it saw Marnie, it calmed before darting over to Piers.

“‘M sorry, mate. Wasn’... fast enough t’ getcha…” Piers apologized. The obstagoon snarled, biting its own tongue before it nosed Piers’ mud-caked hair.

“Can you pick ‘im up?” Marnie asked the pokemon. 

Obstagoon nodded, careful with its claws as it scooped up Piers into its arms. Piers groaned, the throbbing pain aching harder as he was lifted. He leaned into the pokemons fur, the feeling coarse but familiar.

Marnie led the way home, Obstagoon keeping good pace, all of them ignoring any eyes that caught their running form in the rain.

Back at their house, Marnie kicked off her boots and leaned her umbrella against the wall, tugging off Piers’ boots and leaving them by the door with her own. Obstagoon waited patiently for direction, glancing down at its trainer in concern and purring anxiously.

“Bring ‘im to the bath.” Marnie said, hanging up her coat on the coat rack.

As Obstagoon moved forward, Piers put a hand to it’s chest.

“Think I can use m’ legs now, mate.” He was able to speak more now, the pain rousing his senses and the cold rain waking him up. Obstagoon looked at Marnie expectantly.

“Slowly.” she said with a nod.

Obstagoon carefully lowered him down, Piers staggering a moment as he held himself upright. His pokemon held his arm as he balanced himself and started to shuffle forward. 

He ached absolutely everywhere. His legs, his chest, his arms. But the worst of it was his face. His nose was broken, eye swollen shut, lip split, and the inside of his cheek was ravaged from where the punches slammed against his teeth. The aching in his skull was universal, no one point worse than the other as he trudged forward. 

He probably should see a doctor, but he didn’t even want to consider that. He wanted to clean himself and then hide for the rest of his life. Make a den where no one could enter and where no wishing piece would lure him out. Except maybe Marnie… 

In the bathroom, he shrugged off his jacket with a grunt of pain, letting it drop to the floor unceremoniously. Marnie had dashed to the tub and had turned on the water, testing the heat with gentle hands. When she looked back at her brother, she gasped, eyes darting up and down his arms and face.

“That bad?” he asked.

“Kinda.” Her response was choked, and she tried to swallow a sob. Turning back to testing the water, she plugged the tub and let it fill.

“You can go back in, ‘Goon,” Piers said, holding the pokeball out. The obstagoon snarled at it and Piers shrugged. “Fine, fine. Bodyguard away.”

Marnie reached for Piers’ shirt, helping tug it up with pursed lips.

“Y’ don’ need t’ help, Marnie.”

“Want to.”

He winced as he pulled the tank top off and blew a puff of air as he saw the blue, purple, and red bruising against his prominent rib cage. He tried not to look at his face in the mirror, but it was hard to miss. His hair was caked with mud and blood, and so was half of his face. But he could still make out the deep purple bruising of his left eye and the way his nose had a gash across it, the bruising was ugly. It was swollen, but at least it wasn’t misaligned. He didn’t want to have to reset it himself.

Marnie started undoing his belt buckle.

“Oi!” he cried out, more on instinct than anything else. 

“What? ‘Snot like I haven’t seen you naked before.” she mumbled. 

“I can take my own trousers off…”

She let him, going back to the tub and turning off the water. The steam that rose from the bath was tempting. Piers was eager to sink into it and maybe just go completely under. He peeled off his jeans, noting the black and blue bruising that trailed down his thighs and calves, and then his underwear.

Marnie moved and let him climb into the tub. Piers let out a hiss of a sigh as he sank into the warm water. It felt good, but also made his wounds sting, and already the water was growing murky with the mud. He grabbed the washcloth and wiped the mud off his face, able to open his swollen eye enough to give him more clarity to his sight. 

Marnie took residence at the head of the tub on a stool. Once, it had been the other way around. When Marnie was too young to be left unattended in the tub, and then when she wanted Piers to wash her hair instead of mum or dad. But this time, it was her turn. 

Piers was silent as his younger sister tried to untangle the messed up length of black and white hair. He winced as she tugged the hair tie out and took a few strands of hair with it, cleaning himself with the bar of soap almost mechanically. Marnie took a brush and started to work the mud and knots out, Piers silently twinging as she did. Dirt and mud made the tub water darken as it began to fall in, Piers staring at it with mild interest.

They had been right. Here he was sitting in a bathtub, being attended to by his sister. In a warm house, with warm water, and power, and food in the kitchen. How many of them were out there without one or all of these things? How long had he taken for granted the amenities that he’d gotten with his title of gym leader? He’d been childish, taking the role hungrily, fighting to keep it so he could say he was doing something for Spikemuth. But was he really? Or was he just wanting to keep this little haven? To preach to the people of Spikemuth that he cared while he spent his time between gym challenges producing cheap music.

How many people in the crowd cheered him on with hate behind their rallying cries?

“Marnie?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do… Do you think that I care enough about Spikemuth?”

Marnie stopped tugging at a knot.

“What? Why th’ hell do you ask that? Of course you do.”

Piers hummed, staring at the bathwater as she started tugging at his hair again.

“Did they say something about that?” she questioned, finally pushing through the knot. When he didn’t reply, she continued, “You care about this place almost as much as you care about  _ me _ . ‘N we both know that's a lot.” She gave a small laugh, but it felt forced. “‘Sides, you don’ have to listen to pricks like that. They don’ know what you do, how hard you’ve worked.”

Piers hummed again, letting himself sink further into the tub. He wanted to believe her, he really did. If there was anyone to believe, it was Marnie. But he couldn’t. The thoughts stuck to him like glue, layering his lungs in a thick paste that made breathing hard every time he rolled the thoughts in his mind.


	3. Retaliation

Piers didn’t leave the house. At first, Marnie let it slide. She knew he needed time to recover, both physically and mentally. The bruises melted away slowly, dissolving from purples and blues to reds to browns and yellowing, but even after they had all but disappeared, Piers wouldn’t leave. Hell, he wouldn’t even leave his bed.

He’d been having trouble sleeping again, so Marnie had slept alongside him, like she used to when his insomnia acted up. But when she’d get up and get ready for the day, he would roll over and pull the blankets over his head to hide away from the world again.

She gave him a week, coaxing him out for the rare single meal or to watch the telly with her. But he refused to step foot outside of the house, and after indulging her he would go right back to his bed again. 

Marnie didn’t know what to do. She knew her brother was only sinking into a worse depression the longer he did this, but what could she do about it? People were asking about him when they caught Marnie out there, mostly because Obstagoon was shadowing her. She wasn’t entirely lying when she told them Piers was unwell. Most of the townsfolk sent their well wishes with her, but when she relayed them, Piers hardly seemed to respond.

He was normally energetic despite his more quiet nature, putting on concerts to help lift peoples’ spirits or out on the town talking to neighbors. His sudden disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed, but Marnie couldn’t do much more than cover for him. She wasn’t her brother, as much as she looked up to him. 

It was a month after the incident that she had exhausted most of her options. She was only one person after all, and her brother was wasting away even more than he normally was. His eyes were sunken in deep dark sockets, his body going from thin to malnourished. He’d been leaving the food she would bring him untouched, and more than once she’d had Obstagoon drag him to the bathroom to shower.

It was starting to make her angry, feeling so helpless and useless. She wanted to yell at him till he moved, but bit her tongue knowing that anger wouldn’t solve anything. But nothing else would, either. She needed help… 

\---

Piers knew he was willfully wasting away. He couldn’t help it, didn’t  _ want  _ to help it. It was so much easier to let his brain numb out and melt into his bed till his skin grafted to the sheets. His injuries had healed for the most part, leaving behind only one scar where the steel toed boot had kicked into and broke his nose. But everytime he dared to look into the mirror he could see the purple and red coming back, taste the blood on his tongue. When he found himself craving the pain, he’d tear his eyes away and sit in the bathtub with the shower on until all the hot water was used up.

Marnie was trying to pick him back up, he was aware of it. But he let her help fall useless. His brain was screaming at him, that he was going to lose her if he kept this up, but his body wouldn’t comply. And eventually, even his mind fell to the hollow numb.

He didn’t deserve her anyway, let her find someone who deserved her love.

He’d stopped eating. Hunger didn’t even gnaw at his stomach anymore, as if his survival instincts were just turning off one by one. The last time he tried was two days ago, when Marnie sat on the bed until he put a spoonful of sweet curry in his mouth and swallowed. That was all he ate.

He hoped he was going to die soon. His suicidal wishes were passive, hoping something else would come in and destroy him, too cowardly to even take his life with his own hands. But it was drawing things out. It was hurting Marnie, he knew that. He should do something soon…

The bedroom door opened with too much gusto to be Marnie, the noise of the door hitting the wall making Piers flinch under the covers. Maybe those two had broken in. Decided to finish what they started and take Spikemuth into their own hands…

The blanket was ripped off him and he recoiled against the sudden light.

“Shit, Piers… Y’look awful.” A familiar voice. Not someone here to finish him off. Piers cracked open an eye and saw Raihan looking down at him with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

He narrowed his brows and pulled the blanket from the other gym leaders’ hands, covering his face again.

“Fuck off,” Piers mumbled.

“Nah, you might be able to shove Marnie aside, but I’m not leavin’. Not till you get out of bed.”

“You’ll be here a long time, then.”

A beat of silence.

A pressure on the bed as Raihan sat down.

“Marnie told me what happened.”

“She doesn’t even know all of it.”

Raihan snorted.

“You don’t give your sister enough credit. She reads you like a book,” he said. “Sour apples, sour  _ people _ , they’re everywhere. You’ve been leader here for 10 years, you should know that.”

“Yea, well, before they weren’ sayin’ how they wanted to fuck my li’l sister before physically assualtin’ me.”

Rai sucked in air sharply. 

“They all hate me.” Piers stated. He felt a hand over the covers finding his shoulder.

“You know tha’s not true.”

“Every last one of ‘em.”

“Now you’re jus’ bein’ dramatic.” To that, Piers snorted. 

They sat in silence for a bit, Piers torn between wanting to bark at his one friend to let him just decompose in peace and wanting to cry in his arms. 

People thought it was strange that Raihan and him got along. And maybe it was. Raihan was fierce and emotive and physical. He was warm and loud, like fire. Piers was subdued when he wasn’t on the stage or in a battle. A little dramatic, but calm and slow. Maybe it was that Raihan warmed him up, and maybe it was that he calmed Raihan down. Whatever it was, they’d been somewhat close. If Piers left Spikemuth for reasons other than business, it was to go to Hammerlocke.

Raihan didn’t return the visits as often; Hammerlocke was large, busy, and needed constant upkeep. Piers never blamed him for it. 

But that meant he came here regardless of how busy he was… 

The simple notion, the very idea of it made Piers start to tear up. He took a shuddering breath that came out as a sob, and Raihan squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

“I try, Raihan…”

“I know y’ do. They know, too. Most of ‘em.”

“It don’t  _ feel  _ like it.” 

“That’s ‘cause you’ve been listenin’ only to the you in your head feedin’ you lies for a month. I know its hard. Stuff gets difficult. People can be rough. But y’ got to listen to the good voices around you, too. Lockin’ yourself up, that’s not gonna fix anythin’.”

Piers was sobbing under the blanket now, shoulders trembling under Raihans grip. 

“It’s just… it’s easier…” he tried to explain between shaky breaths. 

Raihan peeled back the blanket from Piers’ head. He didn’t look at Raihan, damp eyes fixed on the wall.

“I know,” Raihan said softly. “Sometimes the hard things are better, though.”

At that, Piers let out a sob, blinking away the tears that were coming too fast to stop. His body shook as he cried, Raihan’s hand never leaving his shoulder and instead kneading him softly with his thumb. Piers realized that he hadn’t really cried since the day it happened. He had sulked, waited for the pathetic tears of self loathing to come, but they never did. No matter how hollow and empty he had felt. 

He wiped away the tears and curled around Raihan. It felt… Relieving to cry. Like a weight was lifting. So he let it out, not bothering to mask the choked sounds and groans of pain that the tears brought forth.

When they started to slow, he took deep breaths, eyes swollen and red.

“Feelin’ better?” Raihan asked softly. Piers nodded, giving a small smile. “Good.”

Piers took a few more shuddering breaths, feeling a sense of clarity breaking through the haze of his mind. Marnie. Marnie had called Raihan over here and Marnie had been trying to take care of him for all this time. It hurt to think about how he had dismissed her. How he had wanted to be more cruel in his dismissions… but this time the pain was a good thing.

“Marnie… is she okay?” Piers asked finally.

“Yea, gettin’ a little upset at how you’ve been, but pushin’ along just fine.”

Piers felt a stab of guilt in his chest. Raihan continued.

“She’s cookin’ some curry for us right now, though. Might be nearly done, if you’re feeling like eating?”   
  
Piers didn’t, but he was going to eat anyway. It was the only way to break the cycle of not eating when he fell into it again. Force it till it feels more natural again… 

“Where do I go from here?” 

Raihan hummed at Piers question, looking away in thought.

“Up, I suppose.” 

Piers snorted and shoved Raihan playfully.

“Hey! I don’t have all the directions y’need! But if it helps… The new chairwoman was elected in and has already said she’s gonna dedicate a portion of funds towards Spikemuths restoration…” he trailed off and smirked at Piers, who sat upright a little too quickly.

He grabbed his forehead as the corner of his vision sparked white from the motion, then looked at Raihan.

“Chairwoman? Spikemuths restoration?!”

“Yea, while you were out, we got a new chairwoman, Ms. Orchid. Took over all of Rose’s seized assets once she took office, and seems to have a soft spot for ya. Said it was seein’ how Rose treated you ‘n Spikemuth that made her realize that all of Galar needed to be treated more fairly. Money is still in the works but a lot will be headed your way soon.”

Piers stared at Raihan, eyes sliding out of focus as he tried to comprehend the situation. It was a little too much, after everything else. But it was good. That much he could assess. He would have catching up to do.

“Shit.” Piers croaked, blinking a few times. Raihan slung an arm around Piers shoulder and gave him a rough hug. “S’pose we should celebrate.”

Raihan gave a laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, well, we can start with Marnie's cookin’. Bet she missed her brother, too.”

“Yeah…” Piers let his shoulders sag as Raihan stood up and stretched. He hoped Marnie would forgive him. “Hey… Rai?”

“Mmm?”

“Thank you, for this. For everything.” Piers said, letting his gaze fall to the floor. “I don’... I don’ know how long I would’ve….” He gestures to the bed half heartedly. “‘N Marnie, I don’... I would’ve…”

“Hey, it’s alright mate,” Raihan said, standing in front of Piers. “Don’t think about it now. We’re friends, ‘n I don’t like seeing a friend get stuck like this, yea? You’d do the same, I know you would. I’ll help as long as you need it.”

Piers looked up and smiled and nodded, then shakily stood to his feet. Raihan wrapped an arm around him and led him out of the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading all the way through! It's incredibly rare that I write something that isn't problematic smut one shots, but I enjoyed taking a beat to explore something new. I may write more genfic, I have some ideas for Bede, but if not you can always swing by for the most problematic fics of your faves <3


End file.
